


i know that you, you're taken

by im_on_craic



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, harry is nail's hypeman kinda, niall makes stunning conclusions, the texting is horrendous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:07:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3951802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_on_craic/pseuds/im_on_craic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seriously, Niall. Why has a dead U.S. president peaked your interest?” Zayn murmurs, swiping the phone from Niall’s hands and closely inspecting the lock screen, a picture of John F. Kennedy during a speech. </p><p>“Josh and I were joking about his affair with Marilyn Monroe during lunch and he caught my eye,” Niall answers, scratching at his navel. He leaves out the part where he also went out to lunch with Harry, where he encouraged Niall to kickoff some more Mr-Steal-Yo-Girl actions around Zayn. Although Niall thinks Harry is a real dope who shouldn’t be allowed real humans, he’s not gonna lie, he does do it. <br/>---<br/>Zayn is dating someone else (not Perrie, please. It feels weird involving their real relationships as a ~roadblock); Niall pursues him anyway - bc he is Mr steal-yo-girl after all. Zayn is equal parts annoyed/flattered by it (please don't make Niall too pushy though). Niall gets some reality checks from Zayn and realizes he most definitely has real feelings for a person this time.<br/>-----<br/>the lyrics, of course, are from Mr Steal-yo-girl</p>
            </blockquote>





	i know that you, you're taken

Niall’s always been a child of many bright ideas. With a constant flow of energy pumping through his veins, he was always the source of brilliantly thought up plans. It ranged from simple things, like shoving ice cubes down someone’s back, to more labyrinthine plans, like hot-glueing a mug onto a teacher’s desk. 

He’d had multiple people help carry out his plans. Messengers, distractors, etc. All key variables to the no doubt wild scheme he was cooking up. No matter how many variables came through, there was always the constant component that stood present for every plan. 

Zayn was his right-hand man, his sturdy cane, his whatever you wanna call it. He was hesitant when they’d first started out their little duo act, but now he was the one helping advise the majority of Niall’s plans. He was there to carry it out, and to see the result, and he was just generally there for everything.

Until he wasn’t.

———

“Fuck off,” Zayn whines, tossing one of his many pillows at Niall. It’s a half-assed throw, but Niall isn’t expecting it so he lets it hit him in the face. “Go away, Ni. ‘m tired,” he adds, burying his face further into his pillows. 

Niall responds to Zayn's whine with his own whine. “Zayn,” he drawls, flopping down beside the bed, only to get pushed off and onto the floor. He hits it with a thud and ignores the slight ache in his shoulder. 

He’s glaring at the lump in the bed when Zayn sits up, eyes closed and lips pouty. “What do you want?” He grumbles, leaning back on one arm and using the other to tiredly rub at his face.

Niall grins, hauling himself back onto the bed and sprawling across the side that’s not occupied. “We’re smuggling drugs into Latvia.”

“No.”

“Kidding,” Niall teases, snuggling into the pillows. God, he understands why Zayn hates getting up in the mornings. These things are like giant marshmallows. “However, we are filling up twenty water balloons and throwing them off the roof at noon, when the lunch crowd comes back.”

Zayn seems to perk at that before his eyebrows pull down into one, big self-deprecating caterpillar. Seriously. “Sorry, bro, but—“

And here it comes. One of Zayn's many shitty excuses he’d started using almost a year ago. It started with small ones, first. Wanna hurl Harry’s entire collection of sparkly boots down the stairwell? Can’t, Ryan’s got a picnic planned. Wanna abuse this new Polaroid camera? Can’t, Ryan planned a date at the mall. Wanna watch me shoot myself multiple times over my loneliness? Can’t, Ryan wants me to meet his sister. Ryan this, Ryan that. 

“—Ryan and I were gonna head down to the plaza. There’s a parade going on today.” He tries to lighten the mood right after. “Summer’s coming, yanno? I know it’s you're favorite season, Ni.” And then the best part: “You should come with!”

Niall snorts. “Oh, barf up my breakfast—“ which was delicious, bt-dubs “—I’d rather not third-wheel again, Zayners.”

For a moment, Zayn looks sad. Big brown eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed in his distinct not-caterpillar form. “I’m sorry, Nialler. Promise I‘ll make it up to you,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to Niall. 

But the moment they’d had was gone. “It’s cool, Zee,” Niall replies, bouncing up off the bed and striding towards the door. “No worries,” he adds, flashing Zayn a smile before casually slamming his door shut. Shit. 

He spends the afternoon pelting water balloons at incoming freshman and getting scolded by their floor manager. 

Alone. 

———

Niall wonders when Zayn had gone from his partner in crime to one of the on-again off-again variables. He thinks of different possibilities and reasons, before he always comes back to the same conclusion.

His plan had failed.

He’d made hundreds of plans since he was little, each one carefully thought out by him. He could tell you a lot of them just by memory. Niall was the king of plans. He organized them all and put them all to action. 

However, there was one plan that he’d never seen coming. 

In the midsts of his sophomore year in college, Niall began to notice how every little thing Zayn did impacted him. The plan was a mess; no outline, no variables, no clear warning of what the end result would be. 

It drove Niall crazy. 

Niall had always been this smooth as hell, give-no-shits type of guy. He’d breezed through high school, never facing those life-changing moments kids in movies faced. His life had been pretty easy. 

Sunday mornings were spent watching cartoons with his dad, arguing over whether Looney Tunes or Tom & Jerry was better. He’d spent Saturday afternoons riding down the streets of the quiet neighborhood with Zayn, penny boards chasing after one another. 

Zayn had always been the more talkative of the two during Saturday afternoons, filling Niall in on how his sister’s relationship was going and how he accidentally stepped on Riley’s tail and spent five minutes consoling their giant Doberman. For the most part, Niall has listened, letting the wind blow through his hair as the day went on and they sped through the streets.

Sometimes, Zayn would be quiet. He’d ride ahead of Niall, dark locks pushed into his baseball cap. He’d be standing straight, fingers outstretched at his sides. Zayn would make these quiet sighs that would leave Niall wondering what on Earth made him so chill.

They’d tried to continue their tradition of penny boarding, even as the high school summer days ended and they both enrolled into nice colleges near by. They’d found that Zayn’s classes made him tired a lot and that Niall had too much work to keep up with. 

By the end of freshman year, Niall had dropped one of his courses completely, deciding he’d rather focus on two classes rather than three. Zayn had switched his whole schedule around so he only had classes Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. 

Everything had been fine for a while.

They’d picked up their penny boarding habits again, creating new, different routes from the ones they previously had. A few weeks into the term, Zayn shows Niall this creepy as shit path through the woods that separate their town from the next and Niall’s like ‘cool, whatever’ but he’s secretly kind of in love with the way the sun filters through the trees on warm days and the little streams of nasty looking water that he fell into on the first day.

And that’s when Niall starts seeing Zayn in a different light. He remembers the day he’d first started noticing all of Zayn.

They’d been riding through Niall’s favorite part of the woods, penny boards bumping over the dirt floor. He loved skating through here, really. The only downside was that his wheels always ended up looking dirty and he’d have to run them through the grass 8 times for all the dirt to get off. 

“But have you considered the fact that Marmaduke was a total sham?” Zayn calls from behind him, continuing their conversation from earlier. 

He’s been trailing behind him ever since Niall had fallen into a ditch on their first rides through the woods. Zayn had been wearing headphones, not realizing that Niall had nearly brained himself in a hole. He’d gone a whole ten minutes calling out for Zayn before Zayn had realized he was gone. 

“Marmaduke was the best cinematic piece of art since, like, Alvin & The Chipmunks,” is his ever so witty response. There’s a skid from behind and then a humph from the ground. Niall skids to a stop, turning around to find Zayn sprawled out on the grass.

“Wow, if I had known my opinion was this powerful, I would have said something like Bolt.” Zayn’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, dusting himself off with one hand. “Y’know, the one with Miley Cyrus voicing the girl?”

“Thanks for your unnecessary commentary, Niall. It really helped me get up.” Niall apologizes, stretching a hand out for Zayn. Zayn’s sole response is to pull Niall down with him, because, hey. They made a pact in seventh grade about this, didn’t they?

Zayn laughs as Niall wipes dirt from his chin, rolling over to lay on the grass beside the path. “For someone who lacks a physical ass, you really make up for it with your personality,” Niall mutters, watching his old, black board roll down the pathway until it hits a tree and stops. Zayn’s board is going the other way, the blue board abandoned by a turn. 

“You love my ass,” Zayn snarks back, not even making an attempt to stand up. He’s got his hands behind hid head, staring up at the trees. Niall’s propped up on his elbows, looking around the desolate woods. 

Niall scoffs, finally giving up and laying beside Zayn. “What ass,” he murmurs, turning his head to face Zayn. His eyes are closed now, eyelashes fluttering underneath the rays of sunshine that manage to peak through the tree tops. 

“Don’t wanna go home,” Zayn yawns, turning his body to face Niall too. “Have class tomorrow,” he adds, big Bambi eyes blinking open again. His hand reaches out, toying with the stupid conch shell necklace he gave Niall not even an hour ago. 

It’s almost quiet again, but then Niall starts humming the beginning of that stupid Backyardigans remix under his breath. “You have a horrible taste in music,” Zayn says, finally sitting up. He reaches a hand out for Niall. Niall, who is grateful for all and any help, takes it and hauls himself up.

“Says the one who still listens to Hannah Montana CDs,” Niall retorts, grabbing his board and waiting for Zayn to catch up to him again. Zayn groans, waiting for Niall to push off—again, he always goes behind Niall—before he follows. 

“Have a date next week,” Zayn says, conversationally. Niall nods, turning around to look at Zayn. 

He’s got the same blissed out look he’s had since they started making penny boarding a weekly thing. Zayn can ride with his eyes closed sometimes, so familiar with his surroundings and where he is in the world that he doesn’t even need to peek to see the next turn. 

Niall’s fingers tingle.

———

“You did what?” Liam screeches, causing other restaurant patrons to look their way. Niall flushes, feeling small and childish again. Liam always makes him feel like this with his Beckham facial features.

“I got an F on a pop quiz, no biggie,” He answers, putting up the front of chill and nonchalant that he sees Louis use whenever Liam scolds him. He knows it’s just a facade because he’s seen the thin sheen of sweat that forms on Louis’s forehead when Liam finishes his scolding.

Liam gulps down the rest of his Coke. “‘No biggie?!’” He whisper-screams. “Niall, need I remind you that you have to have an 83% to be acceptably passing? And you have, what, an 85%?” Niall shrugs, sipping his lemonade.

His eyes have been glued to the door since he told Liam about his pop quiz. He’s hoping one of the others will come in and save him before Liam gets really in depth. Luckily, his prayers are answered and Harry and Zayn walk through the door right before Liam embarrasses him any further. 

“You guys will not believe what Niall has done,” Liam gravely says in greeting. Harry snickers, pulling out the chair beside Niall. Zayn ushers him to the side, taking the seat and smiling at Niall. 

“Did our little Niall forget to close the spice cabinet?” Harry feigns shock, amusement dancing in his eyes. Liam flushes the way he always does when the boys mimic his usual over-exaggerated episodes. 

“He got a F on a pop quiz,” Liam blurts out, picking up the menu and flicking through it. Harry chokes on his water, genuinely surprised. Niall doesn’t miss the way Zayn’s eyebrows furrow too. Louis decides that’s the proper time to saunter into the restaurant. 

He pulls out his chair beside Liam at the circular table, using Harry’s head as leverage to sit down. “Why does everyone look like they’re about to get brutally murdered?” Louis questions, shoving half a breadstick into his mouth. 

“Niall, c’mon, we made a promise we’d all keep our grades up, remember?” Harry whines, grabbing Louis’s wrist and untangling it from his head. Louis swallows down the rest of the breadstick in record timing, eyes zeroing in on Niall. 

“Niall, are you failing?” He says, steel eyes locked on Niall’s. Niall’s quick to shake his head no, toying with the stupid kids’ menu the waitresses always give him due to a request by Liam one night back in there freshman year. “Thank God.”

The lull in conversation stays until Liam announces he’s setting a curfew for his boys if he finds out Louis crawled through his dorm window to get home again. “But, daaaad,” Harry jokingly whines, green eyes lighting up again at the sight of Liam’s flushed cheeks. Louis is quick to add his own remark: “Harry, you know that’s only for the bedroom.”

Liam’s cheeks stay red throughout the main course. 

———

“I think weekly penny board rides need to be put on hold until Niall gets his grades back up again,” Louis says during dessert. Niall chokes on his and Zayn’s lava cake, leaving Liam frantically patting his back. 

“What?” Zayn squawks, fork long forgotten. Louis holds his ground, staring them down from across the table. “You can’t do that!” He argues, crossing his arms across his chest like the true toddler he is. 

“I’m kinda agreeing with Lou on this one,” Harry mumbles, stabbing his cookie cake and refusing to make eye contact. “You’re grades are important, Ni,” he says, finally looking up at Niall.

Niall wonders if he looks as lost as he feels. His eyes scramble around the table, looking at each of his friends as if to check if they all agree on this. Zayn, who had initially argued, looks guilty. He clutches at his chest. 

“I’ve been taking too much time away from your studies, Ni,” Zayn claims, breaking the awkward silence that had enveloped the table. “It’s alright, you can focus more on your studies, Niall. I’ll just have to find something else to do in place of our rides.”

Niall slumps into his chair, half-heartedly coloring the ugly pictures from the kids’ menu. He sighs. “I-I guess… I just don’t wanna let you feel left out, Zee.” Zayn pats his back, shrugging his shoulders in the what-can-you-do type of way.

“I’ll find some other activity, dude. I can study too, or squeeze in some dates with Ryan.” Oh, barf, Niall thinks, not missing the knowing glance Harry throws at him from a cross the table. 

“Alright, then,” Niall agrees, letting the conversations around him continue. He doesn’t say as much as he usually does for the rest of the meal.

———

“Harry, the whole point of vandalism is that no one can know it was you,” Niall says, sternly addressing Harry. He’s laying in the corner of the room, painting pretty flowers and kittens into the white walls of Ed’s bedroom.

And the worst part is that he’s signing it off with his curly hand-writing. H.Styles.

“You’re the worst at carrying out plans,” Niall groans, continuing his drawing of a curly-haired stick figure with an admittedly small penis. 

He’s not cruel enough to leave Ed to buy new paint, so he leaves a bucket of white paint and a few brushes by the bed, dragging Harry out after him. “Don’t blame me when Ed comes marching into your room with water balloons,” Niall chides, tugging his sweater back on. 

“Whatever,” Harry huffs, pushing the door to Ed’s building open and traipsing into the broad daylight. “He’s gonna paint over your rude drawings and leave mine as they are.” Niall snorts, covering it up with his sleeve. He wants to tell Harry that he’ll probably paint over it all, but knowing Ed, he would leave Harry’s flowers.

Harry pushes him anyway, leading them to the bus stop by the campus. “What’re you doing later?” He questions, toying with his phone as they wait for the bus to Zayn’s college to come. Niall shrugs. 

“I was supposed to stay at Zayn’s after you left and ride with him, buuuut—“ he drags, huffing as he thinks about studying for the next two hours instead. “I’m studying at my place with some friends, now.” 

“Bull,” Harry comments, nudging Niall and herding him onto the bus. “I know you’re gonna pull something and somehow end up staying at Zayn’s an extra hour.” Niall makes a sound of offense, cheeks flushing red. 

“Y’know, for someone who managed to hide his infatuation with Keeping Up With the Kardashians, you’re quite horrible at hiding crushes, Nialler,” Harry says as they stumble onto the fairly empty bus.

Niall squawks, eyes wide and cheeks flushing impossibly darker than before. “What the hell are you going on about, Haz?” Niall mumbles, pulling his phone out of his pocket just so he has something to do with his hands.

Harry snorts when he sees his wallpaper, a picture taken just a few weeks ago by Zayn. It features Zayn as the center of attention, wearing a pair of white RayBans to cover his pretty eyes, and Niall in the back, riding his penny board, hair tucked into a snapback, fingers held up in a peace sign.

Niall shuts it off right away.

Harry sighs, leaning his head against the unsanitary windows. “Niall, you’ve had the biggest crush on Zayn since we met in freshman year. I see it, Louis sees it, Liam sees it, the freakin’ old lady from the cafe sees!” Niall flinches. “Point is, everyone sees it, bro. Zayn probably saw it too before Ryan came into the picture.”

Niall’s eyes narrow thinking about Ryan. Horror dawns upon him, suddenly. Does Ryan see whatever Harry says everyone sees? Shit, shit, shit.

He turns away, face upturned and facing the other windows. “Don’t know what yer’ going on about, Harry.”

Harry guffaws at that, like he literally chokes on his spit and sits up coughing and laughing at the same time. “Niall, you’re like the ultimate man-stealer—“ 

“What?!”

“And you could totally steal Zayn from Ryan in a second if you wanted to—“

“I dont!”

“As a matter of fact—“

“Please, no.”

“I’ll help you!” Harry grins, grasping onto Niall’s shoulder and squealing like a teenager overwhelmed with emotions, oh wait, Niall thinks. 

Niall’s not stupid or a hermit. He knows he’s kinda, halfway, maybe, totally infatuated with Zayn. The only problem is that Zayn is like this totally authentic French pastry and Niall’s like this knock-off, Walmart store-bought lump of bread.

Niall’s not self-conscious or berating to himself, but he can fight science. Zayn’s fine and his boyfriend, Ryan, is also pretty damn fine. Niall likes to think he’s fine, fine enough that Zayn would be interested, but that doesn’t seem the case.

Many years of scientific research has lead up to Niall believing this: hot people only date other hot people. Hence the reason Zayn and Ryan are a thing. Niall, being a solid 8 on the hot scale, can’t measure up to Zayn’s level of hotness.

Not only does Zayn’s physical appearance defy science, but so does his personality. The guy radiates this sort of chillness about him. Everyone he goes, there’s like, a personal hype man there to be like, ‘Zayn, you’re doing great, buddy man.’ Niall’s been that hype man on many occasions, but he has a feeling there’s always one around Zayn no matter the circumstance. 

“So, you in?” He’s brought out of his endless stream of thoughts by Harry’s deep voice. “I mean, I’m not really gonna take your answer into consideration and will probably end up trying either way, but I like to make you feel like your choice is gonna effect my plan.”

“Be still my heart,” Niall snorts, pulling the stop for the bus. It skids to a halt and they clamber out, stumbling through the gates of Zayn’s campus. “You really know the way into a man’s heart, Styles.”

“Hey, I’m not the one trying to steal a heart here, bro.” Niall rolls his eyes, watching as Harry animatedly continues. “We’re gonna get Zayn to reconsider his choices and look at this fine slab of meat laid before him.”

———

It’s a few days later when Niall gets to finally spend some time with Zayn again. He’s ecstatic and kinda itching for a ride. The downside, however, is that it’s at a college-family picnic and Ryan’s there.

“Niall, hey!” Ryan calls as soon as he sees him. Niall curses, scolding himself for not getting away in time. Ryan’s over in a few seconds, red solo cup filled with Dr. Pepper. Another downside is that they’re picnic is in the middle of a park with a bunch of children only a few meters away. So no alcoholic beverages.

“Ryan, hi,” Niall says in return, awkwardly shaking his outstretched hand. “How’ve you been, man?” Niall questions, trying to throw in enough sentences to make it seem like he at least tried for a conversation. 

Ryan, ever the actor, gives him one of those dazzling smiles he always give Niall. This guy is a freakin’ jerk, his brain supplies. 

Niall hates Ryan. A lot. He’s always giving him these creepy snake smiles, like he knows some creepy shit that Niall himself doesn’t. And he always says things with so many pauses between them. Like, if his words were written out, they’d probably be in stanzas. Thats how many tomes he pauses in a sentence.

“I’ve been great, Ni!” Niall cringes, the use of his nickname—his nickname especially saved for people who he truly cares for and loves—being thrown around like it’s not a term of affection. “What about yourself?”

Niall shrugs. Cool and nonchalant. “Been okay myself, thanks.”

“Ni! So glad you made it,” Zayn calls from across yard, bustling over with an extra beer in hand. By the looks of it, he’s been holding it for quite a while. “Here,” he says, thrusting the bottle into his hands. 

Niall grins, “cheers, Zayners!” He bumps their shoulders together, pulling Zayn in for a half-assed noogie. They’re chuckling, the spread of warmth familiarity slowly easing Niall’s tense shoulders. 

“Cheers, boys!” Ryan calls out, joining their embrace on Zayn’s other side, hand gripping Zayn’s hip like a lifeline. Cool and nonchalant, Niall repeats. “Hey, babe,” Ryan says to Zayn, somehow gravitating all of Zayn’s attention to him in a single swoop. “Great picnic your friends planned out, was just telling Ni about it—“

Cool and nonchalant.

“Niall, hey!” Niall pivots to the side, catching sight of Josh and all his radiance. “How’re ya, mate?” He asks, knocking their drinks together. “Didn’t think I’d see ya again for a while after the Easter party!” Niall laughs, chugging down some beer.

“Hey yer’self, lightweight,” Niall replies, eyes squinting into that devious smirk he gets around Josh. “Better take it easy, dude. Already seem a little tipsy if you ask me,” he jokes, glancing at Josh’s bottle and wondering what drink he’s on. It is still early so he’s assuming it’s the first, maybe second. Josh humphs, light-heartedly pushing Niall’s shoulder. 

Josh is a booty-call, in short words. Or maybe Niall is Josh’s booty-call? Whatever. It works both ways, and they’re cool with it. They were friends long before this booty-calling thing started, so Niall reckons they’ll be friends long after it ends. He’s not worried.

He first hooked up with Josh and their sophomore Halloween party. It was their first year not being the fresh out of high school students who were babied throughout the year. They were hyped. Anyway. Josh was there and Niall was coping with his new found feelings for Zayn, so what better way than to fuck someone else senseless to dispose of the so-called feelings.

It had worked for a while, actually. Until Zayn’s illegal beauty had thrown Niall completely off kilt and he’d been forced to tell Josh. To his surprise, Josh didn’t care. “Joshua gives no fucks, bud,” Josh said, chugging down what seemed like his seventh Capri Sun. “Shit happens, and we’re in college, so who cares?” And slurped down yet another Capri Sun.

Zayn had been the only one of the boys who had found out about their no strings attached arrangement. He hadn’t questioned why Niall was fucking someone for the fun of it. And he didn’t question why Niall kept having Josh over for breakfast, even though he had his specific “no booty calls for breakfast” rule. 

Whatever, though. Niall totally doesn’t care. Cool and nonchalant, he reminds himself.

“Zee!” Niall calls, turning back around to face him. He finds Zayn’s eyes are already glued to him, big caramel eyes looking distantly at him. Niall waves his hand in front of his face and Zayn snaps out of whatever daze he was in. “I’m gonna head over to the grill with Josh. Gonna cook up some mean hot dogs.”

Zayn nods, still a little far away. “Don’t worry, Zayners,” Josh assures. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t burn his own weenie.” Niall cackles at Josh’s over dramatic wink in Zayn’s direction. Niall barely misses the little jaw clench Zayn makes.

———

bae af

that’s a picture of jfk

b a e a f

i’m worried

good, bc im on my way over w/some movies

lou said you can’t come over until your grade is above 87%

yea ik, guess who’s got a 93% in class

:OOO

omw

———

“Who did you kill for this A?” Zayn asks, looking through Niall’s online grades. Niall shrugs, coming out of the bathroom with a pair of grey sweats and his American flag tank top. “And what’s with you newly found obsession of JFK?” Another shrug.

Niall snatches his phone from Zayn’s bed, turning it on and displaying the new lock screen to Zayn, who only sighs and leans back on his computer chair. “Seriously, Niall. Why has a dead U.S. president peaked your interest?” Zayn murmurs, swiping the phone from Niall’s hands and closely inspecting the lock screen, a picture of John F. Kennedy during a speech. 

“Josh and I were joking about his affair with Marilyn Monroe during lunch and he caught my eye,” Niall answers, scratching at his navel. He leaves out the part where he also went out to lunch with Harry, where he encouraged Niall to kickoff some more Mr-Steal-Yo-Girl actions around Zayn. Although Niall thinks Harry is a real dope who shouldn’t be allowed real humans, he’s not gonna lie, he does do it. 

And apparently he owes Harry ten dollars, because he doesn’t miss the way Zayn’s eyes travel down from his face to his belly button, where his skin is peeking out from under the tank. Fuuuck, I’m broke.

Niall’s half-assed flirty comments before, even going as far as to tell Zayn that he’d do him. (He was a little drunk, but it counts, okay?) It’s no different now.

“Haven’t gotten laid in forever,” Niall whines, turning on his side to face Zayn. Zayn coughs, eyes flittering away from him in an instant. “I’m suffering from blue balls, Zee. Blue balls!” Zayn laughs, toying with the laptop on the table.

“Yeah, Ryan’s been holding off on sex for a while, too. Dunno why, but I’m really starting to suffer,” Zayn says, fingers clicking all over the keypad. It’s quiet and Niall hates it. He spots the box of Gushers on the end of the bed right away. 

This one’s for you, Harry.

He rips the bag open, quickly stuffing half the chewy candies int his mouth. “Mmm,” he moans, closing his eyes and tilting his head as far back as possible. He feels Zayn’s gaze on him, and opens his eyes just a bit, staring at Zayn through hooded lids as he chomps down on the Gushers.

This is the most un-sexy situation Niall’s ever been in and he’s berating himself for even starting this in the first place. He quickly swallows down the candy, sitting up and jumping higher onto the bed. 

“Dude! We should totally watch Teen Titans, again! Heard it’s on Netflix now!” Please, say yes and save us from this horrible scenario of begun. Zayn shrugs, head bobbing up and down in agreement. Fuck, thank you. 

———

“I’m tellin’ you, Harry. Most uncomfortable situation I’ve ever been in. Absolutely atrocious,” he says into the phone, glancing worriedly over at where Zayn and Ryan are sat in the booth.

It’s been two days since the Gushers Incident. He thinks Zayn’s either a) forgotten about it or b) dismissed it for the sake of Niall’s sanity. He doesn’t know what he was thinking when he pulled that—that stunt. A wave of emotions flooded him whenever he thought of it. Embarrassment, uselessness, not to mention totally awkward. 

“Maybe he was totally into it but he couldn’t pop a dog because he’s on medicine?” Harry drawls from the other end, turning down the volume of whatever indie music he’s currently obsessed with. “Think about it.”

He says it with such seriousness that Niall almost does think about it. “Pop a dog is the worst way to refer to a boner, Hazza. We’ve talked about this,” Niall answers, taking the glass from the bartender and nodding in gratitude. “Totally kills the mood.”

Harry huffs on the line. “Whatever.”

Niall chuckles, toying with his glass before abruptly standing up. “I’ll call you later, dude. Zayn and Ryan keep looking over at me. Reckon they think I’m on that mopey-third-wheel status, yeah?” It’s Harry’s turn to laugh. He wishes Niall a good night and encourages him to try some more man-stealer maneuvers tonight. Then he hangs up, leaving Niall to face the atrocity that is Zayn’s relationship. 

Fuckity fuck fuck. Maybe if I pretend I’m drunk I can slide in some flirts just casual enough to make it seem normal. Shit, what if Ryan beats me up? Darn it.

“Zee!” He cries out, tumbling over to their booth again. Holy shit, he is kind of drunk. Well, it makes it all the more easier. “This bar is lame, man. I think I’m gonna head over to the club on 47th street.”

Zayn gulps down some of his water—he will not, under any condition, ever drive drunk—and nods. “Yeah, sure. Ry, do you mind if I drop Niall off to make sure he’s safe?” 

There’s a flash of this, this something in Ryan’s eyes, an emotion that washes over him such intensity, that it leaves just as it comes. Niall sees it, and he knows Ryan knows he saw it. It’s replaced by one of his dazzling smiles.

“Sure, babe,” he answers, tugging his coat on. “I was actually about to leave anyway. Got something big tomorrow.” Zayn nods, pressing a kiss to his jaw and telling him to get home safely. “I’m gonna go start the car up, Niall. Meet me outside, yeah?”

Niall nods. Zayn rushes out the door, leaving Niall with Ryan in the small booth. Ryan smirks, this mischievous, nasty, gremlin-like twinkle in his eyes. Gross, Niall thinks. He shrugs on his coat, Ryan’s eyes never leaving his frame. 

“Don’t think I’m oblivious at what you're playing at, Ni,” Ryan says just was Niall tries to leave. His big hand is gripping into his coat, holding Niall back as he tries to flee the scene. “It’s a shame Zayn will never be interested in you. Really warms my heart to see all this effort you put into your relationship.”

Niall shivers, tugging his coat from Ryan’s dirty hands. He gently wraps his arms around himself—its a defense method, okay?—and turns away. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” He murmurs, making a fucking mad dash at the door. 

———

“This is insane!” Niall screeches, jumping with the crowd around him. His shirts off and his body is covered in neon paint but he’s having so much fun. He laughs, accidentally bumping into a strawberry blonde girl. She smirks, fingers clutching his shoulder from where she’d steadied herself. 

“All alone, handsome?” She murmurs, pink lips, pressed to the shell of his ear. Niall shrugs, hands lingering on her waist. “I’d love to spread some more paint on your body. Actually, I think the lime green would look stunning on your thighs,” she adds, hands sliding down his body slowly. 

Niall is so into this. He hasn’t gotten laid in a while and this girl is flaming hot. Also he’s drunk—but that’s besides the point! Her hand is about to reach the waistband of his jeans when he hears a shout over the music. 

“Niall!” Zayn calls, hand tightening over his bicep. “Need your help with something!” He shouts into Niall’s ear. Niall frowns at the girl, who simply rolls her eyes. He lunges forward, connecting their lips in a greedy kiss. 

“Sorry, doll,” he mumbles, letting go of her waist and allowing Zayn to drag him away. She winks at him one last time before the crowd swallows her up. Zayn drags him all the way to the second floor of the club, where the drinks are served and it’s mostly a sitting place. 

“Wipe that shit off your mouth,” he barks, thrusting a napkin into Niall’s hands. Niall touches his lips, finding the girl’s lipstick had stuck onto him. His eyes widen, taking the napkin and wiping traces of the glowing pink lipstick off his mouth.

They plop onto one of the couches, Niall signaling for a waiter. “So, whaddya need, Zayners?” He questions, frowning when no waiter appears. “Was kinda busy back there, y’know…”

Zayn huffs, taking Niall’s wrist and putting his hand down. “You need to cool down a bit, mate. You’re a little too drunk.” Niall barks out a laugh, clutching his stomach and wiping fake tears off his face. 

“There’s no such thing as too drunk, Zayn! I’m having fun, letting loose, whatever ya wanna call it,” Niall says, leaning back into the couch. “Living the single life, yo,” he jokes. Zayn rolls his eyes. 

Niall’s blue eyes soften, reaching a hand out to touch Zayn’s elbow. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous?” He quips, giggling into his palm. When there’s no response, he stops. “Chill, Zayners. You’ll always be my number one, my numero uno, my,” he pauses. “Straw to my berry!”

Through his inebriated state, Niall assumes whatever he said was funny because Zayn laughs and nudges him back. “You’re a goof, y’know?” Niall shrugs, head resting on Zayn’s shoulder. 

“You love it,” he murmurs back, eyes beginning to droop shut. Zayn half-heartedly agrees. He’s dozing off, the stress of the week finally catching up with him. His mind doesn’t really register the kiss Zayn presses to his jaw.

———

Niall’s giggling again. Chest rising and falling with each hiccup of laughter, eyes shut tight, and hands clutching his stomach. He’s giggling up a storm. All because of Ryan’s stupidity in the moment. 

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since Zayn took Niall to the club and got him home safely and-and-and! Wait for it—kissed his jaw! It was amazing. Every second of it. Niall put it away into a safe box in his mind.

What he didn’t put into account other than Zayn’s soft lips on his sweaty forehead—yeah, okay, it was kind of gross for Zayn probably—was that Ryan totally has a crew of spies watching over Zayn, because shit. The dude found out about it.

“What are you gonna do, Ryan?” He questions when he finally gains control of his breathing. Ryan, ever the tough guy, crosses his arms over his chest. “Report me to the authorities?” He teases.

Ryan huffs, rolling his eyes as he struggles to come up with a response. “No, but… Man-stealing is wrong, Niall!” He shouts, eyes briefly flashing to the clock on the wall. He has a class soon, Niall assumes. And his scolding session can only last so long. 

“Who said I’m man-stealing?” Niall questions, toying with the blanket tossed over the end of the bed. He flattens out the fabric, ears red with shame at the conclusion Ryan’s made. Because he is. Oh god, he is man-stealing. “Zayn’s been my friend since forever, dude. Can’t just stop our normal everyday habits because you feel threatened by my Mr-Steal-Yo-Girl persona. Or lack thereof.”

Ryan makes this angry sound that kind of sounds like a mix of an angry boar and a peacock. It’s life changing for Niall. “What a shame it would be if something were to change his view of you,” he snarls, angry frown morphing into a wicked grin. Fuckity fuck.

Niall realizes a moment too late why Ryan had been watching the time. A few minutes after 3:40, Zayn strolls in, books clutched in hand and his bag thrown over his shoulder. Honestly, Niall should’ve seen it coming, what with how fucking evil Ryan is, it should have been obvious really.

Ryan practically hurls himself at him, arms wrapping around his neck in a matter of seconds. His nasty gremlin lips press onto Niall’s, causing Niall to recoil back into a triple-chin position. “Ew gross,” is his ever so intellectual answer. He casually untangles Ryan’s ams from his neck, taking a step back and wiping his lips.

Niall machetes the shit out of the silence that follows.

“Yeah, okay. That was totally gross, and also not consensual on my part, which makes my views of you lower by much more. Also, the worst pull ever. Seriously, movies could do something better. Not to mention, your lips are chapped, your hands aren’t soft, and you smell like ass. So.”

Ryan flushes, eyes flittering from Niall to Zayn to something in the apartment and then again to Niall. It repeats until Zayn coughs, hand gently landing on Ryan’s shoulder. The first thing that goes through Niall’s mind is holy crap has Ryan done this so often that Zayn doesn’t care? and then did I just steal two guys from each other? Harry was right, I am a hussy.

“Ryan,” Zayn states calmly, eyes fixated on his face. “I already told you I don’t wanna see you anymore, mate. I’m not really feeling our relationship anymore. And you coming onto my best friend isn’t something I really appreciate.”

And holy shit. There it is. Zayn is single. Off the market. Open for business. Not tied down. Whatever you wanna call it. And Niall is also single. How convenient, Niall thinks, watching the rest of the situation go down.

“Zayn, c’mon. You can’t throw away two years of relationship! Not like this, at least. A formal break up would be better!” Zayn raises an eyebrow, tossing his bag onto the floor and plopping down onto Niall’s bed. “I mean, no break up would be the best but—“

“Bye, Ryan,” Zayn mumbles, tugging the blanket over his shoulders and turning his head towards the wall Niall’s bed is pressed upon. 

And Ryan leaves. Just like that. Niall had tried for ten minutes to get the creeper to leave and he couldn’t. Zayn must’ve had him whipped if he could tell him to back off in less than a minute. The situation is all too much for Niall to take in, so he drops into the blue beanbag by the bed and heaves out a breath. Harry is gonna be so happy for him.

———

need help

Niall frowns, shutting the phone off and sliding it into his pocket just as his professor walks by. He hands him his homework, waiting until his back is turned to pull his cell out again. He glances at he screen again, quickly typing out a response.

i’m in the middle of class dood

oh shit bro sorry :///

omg text me again in thirty

k

Niall turns his phone off again, turning his focus back to the PowerPoint the professor has just started up. He opens his notebook and textbook, pencil in hand and ready to write till his wrist is on fire.

But the tense ball of anxiety in his stomach begins to build as the clock ticks by. He takes his notes, eyes glued to the projector screen and then his notebook. But Niall’s nerves are bundling each second. He chews on his thumb nail, eyes flickering over to the clock for the first time. Five more minutes. The professor dismisses them soon enough and Niall flies out the door. 

———

“Yooo,” Niall calls, flinging the door to Zayn’s dormitory open. Zayn startles, hands flailing around as he whirls on the computer seat. Niall smirks, closing the door behind him and jumping onto Zayn’s bed.

“Jesus, Niall. Don’t do that,” Zayn scolds, turning back around to face his laptop, which is placed on his neat desk in front of his window.    
There’s this big window that stretches from about two feet off the ground to the ceiling of Zayn’s room. Not only does it open and function correctly, but it also has the most beautiful view Niall’s ever seen. Zayn’s window faces out into the campus, showing everything from the other dormitory buildings to the large park in the center of their campus. There’s this beautiful orchid tree that sits in almost the center of the view. Niall’s never been more in love.

“What’s up, Zayners?” Niall asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. “Something important I need to know about?” He toys with his applications, opening Instagram and liking a few posts, then closing it and opening Facebook. All essential college social apps.

Zayn sighs, whirling back around to face Niall on his bed. “I need to watch this long documentary for my world history class, and I’d rather not do it alone.” Niall nods, bouncing up into a seated position. “Can you go pop this popcorn while I get this thing started?”

Niall leaves the room, heading all the way down to the first floor of the building and into the kitchen. Shoving two bags of popcorn into the microwave, he waits patiently, listening to the sound of the kernels popping. 

When Niall gets back to Zayn’s room, Zayn already has the documentary pulled up on his laptop. There’s an assortment of pillows and blankets tossed all over his bed, so Niall takes the time to pick out his favorite pillow and the ugliest blanket. He yanks open Zayn’s drawers and pulls out the first pair of shorts he sees. 

“Mind if I borrow these?” Niall questions, already tugging his pants down. They’re the skinniest fucking jeans he’s worn in a long time and it feels good to let his legs breathe again. Zayn nods, ears red a she turns away from Niall and his chicken legs. The waistband of the shorts snap around his waist as they make it all the way up. Niall nods in approval and jumps back into bed.

Once they’re both comfortably seated, Zayn hits play. “Documentaries kill,” Niall mumbles, hand reaching into the bowl of popcorn and promptly shoving handfuls into his mouth. “Who cares about Henry VIII and his, like, twelve wives?” Zayn snorts and quietly whispers ‘six’ before they shut up for the whole documentary.

———

“Ni.”

“What?” Niall murmurs, eyes squeezed shut. His cuddles deeper into his pillow, tugging the ugly purple blanket around him even tighter. There’s a nudge at his shoulder to which Niall responds to with a groan.

“Gotta get up, bro,” Zayn says, continuing to shake Niall’s shoulder. Niall whines, forcing himself to open his eyes, despite the drowsiness that still begs him for more sleep. There’s no sunshine blinding him like there usually is at his dorm, but there is also no sun to begin with. 

“It’s 2 AM,” Zayn whispers, face directly in front of Niall’s. Not directly, but they are technically face-to-face. His big Bambi eyes are staring softly at Niall, who’s cuddled up into his pillow with a iron grip on his blanket. “It’s Thursday—well, technically Friday. You have a class today.”

Niall groans even louder. “I hate school.”

“Don’t we all?” Zayn bemuses, mouth curling up into a smile. Niall snorts, letting go of his blanket to wipe at the drool that’s stuck to his cheek. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up at 8, alright?”

Niall nods, letting Zayn brush his hair off his forehead. He leans into the touch, head tilting more into the pillow. Zayn sets his hand on Niall’s neck, fingers entwining with the hairs at the nap of his neck. 

He’s out in less than five minutes.

———

I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna heckin’ do it, Niall thinks, the words flowing through his head like a mantra. Gonna go in and say it. Tell that motherfucker how much he means to me. Drill it into his pretty head. 

His hand tightens on the bus pole, swaying back and forth as the bus begins to turn onto the college’s street. Niall’s eyes catch sight of the front gates, heart racing as the bus begins to slow down. 

Tell him that I was kinda trying to steal him from Ryan. But in the nice way. Tell that loser what a loser he is. Yeah. Niall thanks the bus driver, hopping off the bus and heading through the open campus gates. He strolls through the place first, stalling as much as he can. 

He’s walking passed one of the dorm buildings near Zayn’s when he catches sight of this guy’s shirt. Just do it. Nike. Niall rolls his eyes, praying, hoping that it’s a sign from the gods to tell him to get it over with. Finally, he reaches Zayn’s building, ringing the bell and waiting for their RA to ring him in. The RA, Sandy, lets him in and greets him. Niall says hello and goes straight for the staircase. 

Fuck, this is it, he thinks as he makes the last turn and goes onto Zayn’s floor. He breathes in, breathes out, breathes in, almost forgets to breathe out again, and keeps walking. “You got this,” he whispers, hand on the doorknob. He turns it and flings the door open. 

“Zayn, bro, I’m kinda in love with you and I would really appreciate it if you loved me back and also Ryan was right about whatever and, like, I’m a total asshole. I tried to push myself onto you because Harry told me that was smart and—“ he stops, eyes flittering around the room and landing on Zayn’s lone figure. And, oh shit.

He’s laying on his back, headphones in each ear. His shirt is nowhere to be found. Niall can hear the soft tunes playing, but it isn’t loud enough that he can make out the song. Zayn’s hand is hidden underneath the grey fabric of his joggers, gently moving back and forth, back and forth. His dark hair is ruffled in the messiest way, black tufts sticking up here and there. And the sounds, holy fuck, the sounds. Soft little pants that leave Zayn’s mouth on every other exhale, mixed with these moans. God, these delicious little moans that escape through the lip bite he does. 

Zayn doesn’t seem to notice Niall’s presence for a few more seconds, eyes opening in this majestic way, like some grand prize being revealed. They widen for a fraction of a second before going back into that blissed out state. They’re almost as dark as his hair now, half-lidded but still watching Niall. 

Then this stupid little smirk crosses his face as he sits up. He gently pulls his headphones off with his free hand. His other hand soon follows, leaving the cover of his pants. He sits up, hands supporting him from behind. The euphoric look on his face doesn’t leave and neither does the bulge in his pants. 

“Hey, Niall,” Zayn croaks out, voice deep and husky. He brings a closed hand up to his mouth, coughing behind it. He glances around Niall, into the empty hallway. Niall gets the hint and closes the door behind him. “Didn’t know you were dropping by, mate.” 

I always come by on Saturday mornings for our daily penny rides, Niall thinks, glancing away from Zayn and over to his big window. “Yeah,” he mumbles, clasping his hands together in front of him. “I-I can come back later, Zee.”

Zayn snorts, idly scratching at his stomach. “Nah,” he says, finding something apparently, and flicking it off his thumb. “You can stay.” He reaches forward, grasping Niall’s wrists in his hands and tugging him towards him. Niall stumbles, halting right between Zayn’s legs. “Give me a hand, yeah?”

Niall nods, cheeks red as Zayn guides him gently onto the bed.

———

Harry sends him a card a week later with the words Mr-Steal-Yo-Girl written in his curlicue handwriting on the front. Niall flushes with embarrassment and hands it over to Zayn, who snorts and tapes it to the wall of his dorm room.

**Author's Note:**

> THE STORY IS FINISHED AND IM SORRY. first lemme thank the person this is for i hope you like this, i checked up a lot of it but i didn't wanna let you down sorry!! also s/o to yami-pod on tumblr for betaing this for me ty ily omg. 
> 
> so, when i first got the assignment, i didn't know which prompt to write bc they were all so good and i was like, yeah i suck lmao. so i wrote all of the prompts (I'm a mess sorry omg) but this was the only one that was flowing for me. and then also i am really hesitant about posting about the boys bc me as a female don't know anything about boys so i just watched my older brothers (who are 18 and 23) and wrote based on their actions so if anything is messed up it is because i tuned into teenage/young adult boy channel sorry. then towards the end of the deadline, my little brother was hospitalized and i was stuck babysitting my other little brother, but i didn't wanna let spool down and submit my fic late, so i kinda rushed the ending just to make the deadline I AM SORRY !!!


End file.
